


Teach Me

by PrinceofCinders



Category: God of War (2018) - Fandom, God of War (Video Games)
Genre: Atreus teaches Kratos to read, Dad of Boy, Family, Family Bonding, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Kratos is a dad, Parenting skills, Very minor mentions of violence, dad of war, dad!kratos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 13:59:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15172199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceofCinders/pseuds/PrinceofCinders
Summary: Atreus is excited to teach Kratos how to read their language, since last time they were interrupted. Kratos is indulgent and bad at expressing emotion, but he tries to be a good father.





	Teach Me

**Author's Note:**

> no betas we die like men
> 
> Here's another lil one shot about the relationship between Kratos and Atreus! Once more it focuses a bit more on Kratos' feelings, so I think in the next one I'm going to try for a more Atreus-centric fic. My heart couldn't let go of that scene where Atreus tried to teach Kratos the runes, so I filled the gap. Let me know how I did! I felt like in my last one, Kratos was a bit softer than I intended, so I changed how I approached him a bit.

“Father, c’mere and look at this!”

 

Atreus’ cheery voice rang through the forgotten halls of an ancient temple he and Kratos were traipsing through in search of a rare crafting material. The rusted metal urns gleamed dully as Kratos passed by them towards the mural Atreus was pointing at.

 

“You know I cannot read this language, boy. What does it say?” rumbled Kratos with mild displeasure. These “adventures”, as the boy put it, would certainly go faster if he were the one to read the runes required of them.

 

“I know you can’t, so that’s why I want to teach you! I tried showing you back in the temple of Tyr, remember?” Atreus paused there and his face momentarily darkened as he remembered what came shortly after. He shook it off and pressed on. “I know you can speak it, but I think it would be really good to learn how to read it. What if we were separated and you had to use a sandbowl to come find me? Please, Father!”

 

The boys pleading were met with half-lidded eyes and a fond, yet exasperated growl. However, Kratos didn’t truly have the heart to deny Atreus this one task. The world was not currently ending, and there were no wrathful Gods hunting them. He supposed he could allow this moment of frivolity. Kratos walked in measured strides to Atreus’ side and kneeled, laying one massive palm on the nape of the boys neck.

 

“Very well, Atreus. Show me what you wish.”

 

With that, the young boys eyes nearly sparkled like the embers of a forge being stoked. Exuberantly, he shuffled in place in a mad grab for his journal as if he feared his Father would lose interest in the time it took to grab the item. Kratos reached with the other hand not on Atreus and stilled the frantic movements, calloused hand enveloping both of the childs.

 

“Peace, boy. The sun is barely in the sky. There is time,” Kratos murmured, releasing his child's hands and grabbing the book himself. He passed it to Atreus as the boy sheepishly blushed and whispered a soft apology. Atreus cleared his throat and flipped to a blank page, bringing his small stick of charcoal to the page as he began to copy the runes from the wall in front of them.

 

“Okay Father, it’s like this; see the weird rune on the wall? That means  _ clouds _ , so you have to start by drawing it at this end so it make the rune look curvy and wavy like a real cloud. The one next to it means  _ rain _ , and it's easy to remember that one because it has the markings inside that look like little raindrops. The next one is…” Atreus’ excitedly gestured at each rune in turn, making slow, exaggerated movements as he traced them in the journal so his father could follow along easily. Kratos was impressed, if a little baffled by the enthusiasm; he never saw the need to read many languages, but he could appreciate the passion for word. He was much like his mother, in that way. Faye would be quite proud to see their son fervently trace the runes with a passion Kratos sadly lacked.

The mural depicted nothing terribly exciting, just the prayer of local towns to Freyr in hopes of rain for a good crop, but the way Atreus worshipfully stared at the lettering, one would think it was a sacred divine knowledge. 

 

“Okay Father, that’s all the basic stuff. Give it a try now! You know all the runes up there now, so try writing the prayer for rain. No peeking!” Atreus abruptly splayed his body protectively in front of the mural to prevent Kratos from simply reading the runes from the wall. The corner of the large mans lips twitched in humor at the childish display. At least Atreus had not completely lost the innocence of youth. Kratos dipped his head towards the journal and awkwardly clenched the charcoal, unfamiliar as it was in his hands. He never saw a use for writing in his youth, and he distantly wondered if this was even the proper way to hold the writing stick. He frowned deeply at the page for a moment and began to shakily copy what he remembered from Atreus’ ramblings. It took longer than he would have wished, but Kratos finished. The writing was heavily smudged but Atreus let out a whoop of victory and grabbed Kratos’ hands.

 

“That was really good, Father! I should have told you that the charcoal smudges easy because it's pretty hot right now, but you did the runes exactly right! I think the line on the cloud rune is kinda crooked, but I think that was really good for a first try,” Atreus rushed out excitedly, weaseling the journal from Kratos to peer happily at his father's handwriting. Unused to the easy praise, Kratos’ cheeks burned under his thick beard. He gruffly cleared his throat and stood, cuffing Atreus gently. Distantly, Kratos was thankful they had opted to leave Mimir in the care of the dwarven brothers for today’s journey.

 

“You have taught me the runes you wanted. We must continue on, now, unless you wish to fight off creatures in the dark,” rumbled Kratos, rolling his massive shoulders back to work out the tension the hunched position had given him. Atreus, seeming to remember they were not in the safest of places, glanced around as he tucked his possessions back into his small pack.

 

“Did you hear any draugr making their way over here? You should’ve said something,” huffed Atreus as he followed Kratos out of the room and down the winding, ancient hallways. Kratos grunted as he heaved a fallen pillar for them to slide under.

 

“There are no creatures yet, boy. They will be here soon, and it is wise to leave before then.”

 

Atreus’ mouth twisted unhappily and his demeanor sagged a bit. Kratos eyed him but opted to let the boy think about what he wanted to say. They walked in silence for some time, finally spotting the material they were here for, and fighting off a few draugr in the process. It wasn’t until they reached the entrance of the temple that Atreus spoke once more in a subdued tone.

 

“I’m sorry for wasting time, Father. I didn’t know I took that long talking about the runes. I won’t do it again,” he mumbled, shoulders hunched as he stared unseeingly at the ground. If Kratos were less of a controlled man, he would have sighed loudly and palmed his forehead in exasperation. Instead, he exhaled softly through his nose and clasped Atreus’ tiny shoulder, bringing them both to a halt as he narrowed his eyes at the forlorn visage of his son. His waited until Atreus looked up, Kratos’ wisened eyes boring into the youthful face of his boy. 

 

“I would have continued walking if you had wanted something that was unfruitful. Language exists for a reason; to be learned or taught. I do not waste time, boy,” growled Kratos in a tone of voice that was soft, yet held an undercurrent of steel. As Atreus’ face cleared and he gave a small, yet genuine smile, Kratos was thankful that his message had not gone unreceived.  _ I will always have time for you. You are important. You are never a waste. _

 

Kratos strongly clapped Atreus’ back, sending the boy stumbling forward towards the small boat that awaited them on the shore. His son playfully huffed and clambered into the boat, chattering nonsensically about runes he could teach Kratos next. The burly man pushed away from the shore, paddle breaking the glass-like stillness of the lake. Atreus barely took a breath before he begged Kratos for more stories, even though he oft complained about the shortness of them. Kratos peered west towards the temple of Tyr; the fire of the braziers danced lazily in the distance, looking for all the world like stars, given how far the pair were. Deciding to indulge his son once more, Kratos raked his brain for a suitable story that would keep the boy properly entertained.

 

“Very well, boy. I will tell you of the birth of Pegasus. He was a great beast with hooves stronger than steel and a coat of the purest white…”

 

Kratos’ voice carried across the starry lake, deep and rumbling like the softest thunder. Atreus scooted over to be next to Kratos and stared, enraptured at the pictures painted by the tales. They traveled on like that, their only companions the salty breeze and occasional splash of a fish breaching the surface. 

 

And if Atreus fell asleep curled into his father's broad side, Kratos would be the only one to know.


End file.
